


The Wood

by quartz_roe



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartz_roe/pseuds/quartz_roe
Summary: (I couldn't think of a better title, for now / I'm also posting this on wattpad under the same username).note: this is inspired by and is a slightly re-worked au by sphenodontia (check out her tumblr, her art is amazing).To her household she is nothing more than a servant girl, but to the town, she is the legendary Ladybug - protector of the innocent and fighter of the people. Monsters of both the magic and mortal kind have crossed her path, but few have walked with bragging rights. That is, until a most vital task arises: the Prince is missing, and it looks as though a monster from the Wood has taken him.However, in a freak encounter with an unfamiliar foe, Marinette is rendered powerless, and finds she must make haste to a stranger in the Wood who can help her sprite.With the help of a monstrous stranger, can Marinette make her way back in time to save the Prince and her people?





	The Wood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sphenodontia (tumblr)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sphenodontia+%28tumblr%29).
  * Inspired by [prince/servant/witch/werecat au](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/438636) by sphenodontia (tumblr). 



> First draft, please be gentle x

The Wood's dark stain blotted the land, it's figure looming darker than pitch against the deep navy skyline. Mere feet from the wild thickets at it's base, lopsided houses opened their gold eyes and sighed smoked from their chimneys. Church bells sounded, weaving by stout houses and beckoning folk carrying their wares; wheelbarrows stacked with tools, sacks of wheat and baskets of fruits and pails of milk and all things tradable. At least, that's what Marinette assumed those distant figures were lugging to the market.

It was unwise to stop for long in a cold so bitter, but watching the town wake like clockwork was fascinating. She shivered violently against the icy window-ledge, paused mid-decent at the lowest-set tower, face to the wind. Waking before the crack of dawn got easier, but not by much. The frigid weather did wonders for nipping away the last dregs of sleep.

Marinette loosed a smoky sigh, peeling herself away. On her winding descent she straightened her apron and smoothed unruly strands under her cotton bonnet, the clatter of the kitchen growing louder and louder. Her hands flinched involuntarily to her sides at the bellowing voice of the Head Cook.

" - take those platters upstairs! Move girl, move out of the way! You, what're you doing? You're worse than the dogs! Ah, here she is!"

Marinette paused at the door, surveying the bedlam.

Meats sizzled on a spit, pots and pans bubbled and frothed, blowing off steam that gleamed off the ruddy face of the head cook, Mistress Delphine. She presided tall and immovable among the revolving forms of cooks and scullery maids, haring bunch-shouldered to dish out and hand off platters to the footman queued at the entrance.

Marinette swallowed.

Mistress Delphine levelled her ladle with the young cook. "Get on a station before I beat you 'til they can't tell your face from your hair."

"Y-yes ma'am!" Marinette yelped, joining the fray.

Breakfast was arguably Marinette's least favourite meal of the day. Their food was beyond delightful - heavenly, even - but early morning Mistress Delphine could strike fear into anyone, even the King himself, Marinette wagered. She clipped ears and brought her trusty ladle down on unwitting heads should an inch of a toe infringe on her war path. Her tongue was the worst though; cutting deeper than most knifes they had in the kitchen.

Just like that, Marinette felt herself become a cog. They ticked along, passing off fresh loafs, hot porridge, succulent meats and spreads of fruit into waiting hands. Soon the finer foods fazed out, and only bulk porridge and slop was making it's way out. At the rushes' end, a considerable time later, she paused collecting pans, looking down her pale arm, frowning in dismay at the welts rising there.

A hard jab to her side snapped her to attention.

Mistress Delphine shoved a bowl of porridge into her fumbling hands, waving her ladle around like a conductor.

"Get out of my kitchen and get out fast," she grumbled, already bustling the scullery maids around the counters, "before I decide to remember who was late."

"Right away," Marinette blurted, moving fast for the door. "Thank you!" she called back.

She left the clattering of scullery maids and Mistress Delphine for the relative solitude of the tower stairs, settling on her window ledge. Light chatter pattered down from their quarters, and the odd maid passed, saying their good mornings or giving Marinette a smile or a nod. Otherwise, she was left to her view.

The indistinct shadow of the Wood had been cast away by the icy sun, revealing tall pines and oaks dusted in frost. On a small stretch of green between a cluster of houses and the Wood, she spied children playing. She felt an uncomfortable turn in her gut.

 _They're fine_ , she thought, _they know the rules._

She watched regardless, spooning her sticky porridge.

A child with brown locks and a cloak neared the Wood, chasing a hoop.

Marinette straightened, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth.

The child reached out, snatching her hoop before it touched the Wood. She turned to her awaiting friends and waved the hoop with evident pride - and without a seconds' warning a great hand lurched from a tangle of bushes and snatched the child, leaving no more than a gentle ruffle of leaves in it's wake.

Marinette's breakfast tumbled down the stairs as she made her rapid ascent. She burst through the single door at the top of the tower into a circlet of cramped beds lining the walls. All heads turned to her, some laid in laps or on the shoulder of another, or perched at the end of beds, their conversation cut short.

"The Wood," she huffed, "it took a child."

Her fellow kitchen staff gasped and cried out in fright, leaping from their beds, their bowls abandoned. Marinette staggered out of the way, standing as if to follow on the tail end of the mob. As the last set of footsteps faded, Marinette sprinted to her bed, kneeling and lifting a slate of stone. Within she'd dug out a spacious hole, whereupon her sprite, Tikki, sat nestled among a mess of loose cloth, a pile of folded clothes and a pair of scuffed black boots.

Her sprite would've startled her fellows at best, and horrified them at worst. She was a small, bright red creature with black spots peppering her head and bodice and long antennae. Her leaf-like tail flicked, her limbs unfurling multiple lesser appendages, not unlike a tree.

Tikki slowly blinked her big blue eyes, peering up at her holder.

"Good morning, Marinette," she greeted through a yawn.

"I'm sorry, Tikki," Marinette rushed out, "there's trouble. Serious trouble."

Her antennae perked up. "The Wood?"

Marinette nodded, twisting her arms behind her and undid a few hooks on her dress; additions courtesy of Rose, who hadn't asked many questions when Marinette requested the odd customisation.

Tikki returned it. "Then let's not waste any time."

The sprite zipped up, circling Marinette in a blur of red. The blur bore tawny and crimson leaves, plastering Marinette from head to toe before evaporating with a tickling sensation into her skin. She tensed, and in a pulse of light, she had become someone other than Marinette.

Ladybug blinked her six bluebell eyes, her veined, rough-edged red wings fluttering experimentally. She kicked her servant shoes into the crevice and tugged on the black boots, flourishing a red cape over her shoulders and did the black buttons running down the uppermost part. She ripped off her headband and dug out a strip of red and spotted-black material, tying it around her face and adjusted it accordingly, obscuring her new eyes. She tossed her splattered apron in, digging out the last component to her attire: a black, wide-brimmed hat embellished with a red silk ribbon.

She set it atop her head and replaced the slate, bounding for a set of wooden shutters and flung them back. On the sill she peeled back her cloak, bunching it down her back between her wings and stepped out into the open air. The roof below rushed to greet her - when the extra muscle in her back contracted, and her sizable wings beat against the earth's pull. She wove by rising towers and dove past windows full of movement, making for the eastern end of the castle; to the wall that rivalled the trees. She curved southward - hat in hand - soaring on the wind toward the iron teeth lining the wall. She grit her teeth, slowly angling her wings - she couldn't afford to lose speed, for if anyone had spotted her, she would have too make a swift exit. Lest anyone piece together why she was so familiar.

Ladybug felt the whisper of spikes against her stomach as she propelled headlong into the Wood. Her wings flared, jerking her to a near stop.

The pungent smell of rotting leaves eagerly filled her nostrils and settled on her tongue. The Wood was as it always was. Dark. Twists of boughs and their spidered limbs made for many windows to the sky, however under whatever evil that soaked the soil and fed the trees, the light seemed to stop short.

Ladybug drifted through the heavy silence, giving the darker patches of thicket a cautious look and a wide berth. She tugged her mask over her mouth, scanning high and low, ears strained.

Minutes passed. Until, as low as the whir of a fly's wings, a muffled cry sounded.

Her head snapped in the direction of the sound. She shot like an arrow, readjusting her mask and boding to hold her hat in place. Tightly comprised trees gave way to more open space and light reached where it previously could not. A few feet away she tracked movement - a leafless, skeletal tree, taking long, measured strides. In it's rough hand the girl kicked and screamed, calling for her maman.

Ladybug circled around the lumbering monster, dropping to the ground in a sprint, pulling her cloak about her. She halted in it's path.

" _Hey!_ " she barked.

The tree creature drew to a laboured stop, raising the black holes in it's bark. It exposed it's jagged bark-teeth in an apparent scowl.

"Ladybug!" the girl exclaimed, her blotchy, swollen eyes widening hopefully.

"Let her go," Ladybug said evenly, taking a slow step closer, "and we'll walk away. No harm, no foul."

"I do not fear a fight with an insect such as you," it sneered in it's deep, rough voice.

Ladybug angled her head. "You haven't heard of me, have you?"

It's eyes narrowed. "Mortal names are of little concern to me."

"But mortal children _are_?" She nodded to the girl. "You're a tree creature, she wouldn't be any good for food, and the risk for taking her is a big one." She inched closer. "What use is she to you?"

"So you know a few things about my people," it bit back, "but you clearly know very little about the ways of the Wood."

"Care to share?"

"I see no point. You're knowledge will die with you."

The creature arced it's long arm and brought it careening down. Ladybug jumped and rolled to her feet as dirt flew, sprinting up it's arm. Before the creature could lift it's heavy hand, Ladybug spun and slammed her leg into it's face with the weight of ten shire horses. From it's suddenly limp grasp Ladybug grabbed the child's hand and pulled - the creature hurtled through trees, splitting them at the midsection and sending them crashing with it. Birds erupted from cover and flew like the devil was on their tail.

Not waiting for the creature to rise, Ladybug shouldered the child and ran akin to the birds.

"Y-you. S-save. Ed. M-me!" the girl managed, jolted by Ladybug's gallop.

"I haven't just yet," Ladybug gasped, "keep an eye out for any tag-alongs!"

Her speedy trek went untroubled, until -

"L-Lady. _Bug!_ " the girl shouted, grappling with her cloak. Ladybug pressed her wings against her back. "It's c-come. _I-ing!_ "

Ladybug craned her neck. Barging trees from their roots, the tree creature was keeping in bumbling pursuit - and it was gaining.

They weren't far. Up ahead she sighted where the inner Wood met the outer Wood - the dark barrier where the shadows ate the light. She veered left. The darkness drew nearer. She veered right. She felt the ground tremor and the saw the trees rattle - she didn't look back to check if the creature had indeed fallen. The sound of trees splintering spurred her on - straight into the outer Wood.

A little bit longer.

Her lungs burned, the cold dragging it's claws up and down her throat.

Light - muted, but there it was, clear as day.

A reverberating roar sent animals in the brush fleeing.

With one last lunge, Ladybug burst from the darkness of the Wood and into the dazzling light. In her momentary blindness shrieks sounded. She squinted the gathering of common folk into view; cowering, a few figures sprawled, thrown back in fright.

"Ladybug!" people gasped.

" _Away!_ " she ordered, stumbling to them. " _Get away from the Wood!_ "

Faces in the crowd slackened in horror.

Ladybug dropped the child onto her unsteady feet and pivoted. The tree creature's contemptuous gaze locked with Ladybug's, fresh cracks in it's face webbing under the pressure of it's contorted features. Ladybug stared back into the solid pit of it's eyes, chest heaving, unblinking.

Without a word it turned, it's footfalls receding.

Something slammed into her side. She started, ready to peel whatever monster had followed from her. But wrapped around her waist was the child, hugging her with all her might.

"Thank you, Ladybug," she mumbled into her cloak.

Ladybug smiled, setting a hand on her head.

A commotion parted the crowd, and a woman with tear-streaked cheeks and wild hair ran full pelt at them.

" _Marie!_ " she sobbed, reaching with open arms.

The girl relinquished Ladybug. "Maman!" she wept.

Marie was swept into her maman's arms, crushed and kissed and soothed. The lady looked to Ladybug.

"Thank you. Thank you," she intoned like a prayer.

"It's my pleasure. Steer very clear of the Wood, alright?"

Weeping, she carried her daughter into the crowd. Civilians swiftly filled her absence and poured their gratitude, bringing next a flood of questions -

"What _was_ that?"

"Will it return?"

"Will it stay in the Wood?"

"A tree creature. No, I don't believe it'll return or leave the Wood," she answered, calming the sea of voices. "From now on, nobody goes anywhere near the Wood. Stay well away, no matter what." She tipped her hat. "I have too go - but _please_ , be safe!"

"Thank you, Ladybug!" a few voices echoed.

She ran the face of the Wood, half watching for any particularly vengeful occupants or the watching eyes of the townspeople. It was behind a shambling shed she found the privacy to tuck her cloak and fly into the Wood, taking the same route she'd come from. After some split-second ducking and diving and alarmingly close manoeuvres, Ladybug made it back to the kitchen staff's tower, peeking in over the sill before determining it safe to de-transform.

"It's getting worse," Marinette sighed, unlacing her boots on her bedside.

Tikki bobbed in the air before her, her small brow furrowed. "What do you think could be causing the Wood to act this way?"

"I was going to ask you the same question," she said, hearing her own uncertainty.

"Well, regardless of why, the King will do something about it," the sprite offered, but did not sound entirely confident.

Marinette slid back the slate and extracted her servant-wear, carefully folding and replacing her alter-ego's with a lingering hand. It all came courtesy of admirers: the boots from a cobbler whose business near burnt to the ground had she not used her immense strength as Ladybug to lug sacks of sand from across town - with the help of the townsfolk - to strew on the rising flames. The hat was a gift from a milliner who'd wished to thank Ladybug for stopping bandits who'd attempted to rob a cart of supplies making it's way into town. The cloak, thick and heavy and perfect for hiding her wings was the collective effort of the town, or at least, her admirers.

Marinette looked to her sprite. "Do you think there's much he can do? I mean, he already passed that deal with them and they're already breaking it."

"I just don't know, Marinette," she said ruefully. "But with you here to help, I think everything will be fine."

She sighed lightly, staring down at her cloak. "I hope so."

Excited voices echoed up the stairs.

"Quick!" she hissed. Tikki was already in the crevice before she'd finished, snuggling low.

"I'll get you something nice - really nice. I'll see you later - and thank you!" Marinette got out in a flurry, catching Tikki's quick nod as she slid the slate back into place.

She slipped on her shoes and deftly knotted her apron, and was in the process of retying her bonnet when the other occupants of the room returned, laughing and chatting.

"Marinette," one said, frowning, "how did you get up here so quickly?"

Marinette shrugged, adjusting her bonnet. "What can I say? I'm quick on my feet."

"I wish you'd been that quick this morning," another said, hopping onto her bed and taking up her bowl, "Mistress was seething this morning. I thought for sure she'd knock me out with that damn spoon."

"Ladle," her friend corrected, reclining across her lap.

"Same difference," she mumbled around a spoonful.

Her fellows found their places and devoured their last morsels of food, giving their accounts of the scene that unfolded at the border from their respective viewpoints across the castle. Before long they were called back to their duties, but stories were brewing, whisking by Marinette's ear like an ever-present friend, affording her a smile through Mistress Delphine's temper and the arduous work in the kitchen. Even through the nagging doubt hanging on the hem of her skirts.

_-_

A scrape and flare brought the candle at Marinette's bedside to life. She blew out the hissing match and opened her drawer, adding the dead match to the pile and retrieved a folded letter, one which had arrived mid-afternoon via a hassled looking messenger.

Marinette lay back, her head meeting the jagged stone of the wall, chewing her lip. Her fingers lingered on the folded page, tracing it's edges and toying with the bent corners.

Her parents' letters said the same thing every time, in essence, but that was perhaps the hardest part about reading them.

Her village, Starling, was on it's last legs, dying a slow and painful death. Her parents' bakery was the most successful and prominent part of it, but that wasn't saying much. In her last desperate bid to save herself and her parents Marinette made the risky trek to the town below the King's castle, three towns over. That was almost four years ago.

Marinette unfolded the letter.

   _My darling Marinette,_

_how're you? Myself and your Papa are well, still working hard!_

_Starling is doing the same as it always is, but that's better than it doing worse, I suppose. We're still getting business, and our savings are steadily building! If it stays this way, we should be able to make our way to you by next year, just as planned!_

_The street is practically empty at this point and I doubt anybody will be moving in anytime soon, but I don't think we'll be the last out of here. I'm afraid it doesn't get much more interesting than that! How's work? Are they treating you kindly? Are they feeding you?_

_We hope to hear from you soon._

_All the love in the world,_

_Maman and Papa x_

Marinette pressed the damp paper to her chest, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She curled onto her side, hoping to subdue and bury the all too familiar ache for fear of waking her fellows, all sound asleep around her. But the ache throbbed on, unstoppable with the hand of exhaustion on it's side.

She quietly cried herself to sleep by candlelight, clutching her letter.


End file.
